


Everybody's Talking

by froggydarren



Category: Adam Lambert (Musician), Glee, Glee RPF, Last Friday Night (Music Video), Struck by Lightning (2012), Teen Wolf (TV), Teen Wolf (TV) RPF
Genre: Dialogue Meme Fills, Drabble Collection, M/M, Tumblr Meme Prompts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-23
Updated: 2014-08-26
Packaged: 2018-02-14 09:22:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 5,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2186349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/froggydarren/pseuds/froggydarren
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Various prompts for a <a href="http://froggydarren.tumblr.com/tagged/dialogue-prompts">dialogue meme at tumblr</a>. Ratings vary per drabble and will be marked in notes.</p><p>1. Adam Lambert & Darren Criss: "This isn't exactly what I had in mind."<br/>2. Crisscolfer: "Hey, have you seen the…? Oh.”<br/>3. Klaine: "I'll never unsee that"<br/>4. Crisscolfer: "You want me to do what?”<br/>5. Sterek: "Are you fucking kidding me?"<br/>6. Caaron: "Are you flirting with me?"<br/>7. Crisscolfer: "I think you missed your calling"<br/>8. Crisscolfer: "You forgot to say the magic word"<br/>9. Hobrien: "I've got one word for you: sing-along"</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. "This isn't exactly what I had in mind."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adam Lambert & Darren Criss, rating: G, prompt: "This isn't exactly what I had in mind.", prompted by [hysterekial](http://hysterekial.tumblr.com/)  
> Guest appearance: Brian May (Queen)

Adam is holding out the costume as Darren stares blankly at what seems like a mountain of leather.  _Red_  and leather.

”Come on, you did say you’d join us on stage and  _dude_ , this can’t be reason enough for you to chicken out,” Adam smirks. “I  _have_  seen the Gaga costume. And the Nightbird one. Hell, I’ve seen the Starkid videos.”

"You what?" Darren squeaks, because they’re not alone in the room.

He hears chuckles from around the room and okay, he’s already mostly over the shock of meeting  _Queen_. Not  _the_  Queen, but the members of the band, of course. 

"We’ve seen your Glee videos," rings across the room and  _fuck_ , that’s Brian May and he’s seen Darren do their songs and  _holy shit_  he was so not counting on that one when Adam called.

"Yeah, about that…" Darren mumbles, and feels the heat rise in his cheeks.

"Come on, don’t be a spoilsport. No going on stage unless you’re in this," Adam says with a chuckle that’s threatening to grow into full on laughter.

"You know, when you called and said you were going to make my dreams come true," Darren says, his cheeks still burning bright, "This isn’t exactly what I had in mind."

Adam then bursts into full laughter and pushes the costume at Darren.

"You can tell me all about  _that_  later, when I’ve seen you in this,” he says and the room echoes with amused “ooh”s and chuckling. 

"Fine," Darren grudgingly takes the costume, but the sparkle in his eyes tells Adam that the grumbling isn’t all that serious. "You’re helping me, though."

The moment the words are out, Adam’s eyebrow shoots up and Darren can hear and feel everyone else scatter out of the room with laughter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Picspiration: 


	2. "Hey, have you seen the…? Oh.”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crisscolfer drabble, rating: G, prompt: "Hey, have you seen the…? Oh.”, prompted by [star55](http://star55.tumblr.com/)

Chris peeks in the freezer and frowns. Then he opens the chest freezer where they usually keep some extra stuff, but finds nothing. He’s pretty sure he remembered to replace the pack they finished yesterday, but he comes up blank. 

Darren is nowhere to be seen, of course, so he can’t ask. He looks again into the freezer just in case he missed the blue packs at the back of a drawer or something. Ashley is due to arrive soon and he  _really_  just wants to finish packing up for the trip to his parents. He’s about to find his phone to call Darren, even though he should be in the house anyway, when the man in question walks into the kitchen from the yard.

"Hey, have you seen the…? Oh."

There’s a blue pack in Darren’s hand that is dripping water and Darren’s face looks somewhere between delighted with himself and guilty.

"Shit, fuck, I forgot you guys were driving today, sorry" Darren blurts apologetically.

"What are you doing with those?" Chris asks, eyebrow lifting.

"I just, challenge. Thing. Drought." 

Darren shrugs like his words actually make sense, and Chris frowns as the facts begin clicking together.

"Did you just… oh I’ve gotta see this."

"Come on then, it’s pretty awesome!" Darren perks up even more and tugs on Chris’ hand.

They walk out into the backyard and Chris immediately doubles over in laughter. Darren has set up a baby bath — Chris isn’t even trying to think where it came from — filled it with slightly murky water that Chris knows came from their watering stash and threw in all the ice packs they use for their cooler boxes.  _All_  of their ice packs, which explains why Chris couldn’t find them earlier. 

"So, need a cameraman?" Chris asks when he finally stops laughing. "Because if you’re jumping in there, I am  _not_  missing that.”

The answer is a slightly petrified expression followed by a shaky nod, and Chris is already digging for the phone in his pocket.


	3. "This isn't exactly what I had in mind."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Klaine drabble, rating: R, prompt: "I'll never unsee that", prompted by [frumiousme](http://frumiousme.tumblr.com/)

It’s been months and Kurt is becoming pretty sure that at this point, he has seen everything. They have seen each other naked —  _duh_  — and dressed, they’ve seen each other happy, angry, and panicky, they’ve seen each other after long days of rehearsals and even longer ones at work. He’s seen Blaine through the Freshman Fifteen phase and through its aftermath. He’s seen his fiance struggling with his diet, and he’s seen him almost taking it too far with losing weight. 

Blaine has seen him in the mornings, before Kurt managed to wake up properly, before he was ready to face the world. Kurt knows that Blaine has seen him in various moments of frustration and anger, in moments when memories came back and overwhelmed him. 

They’ve even learned to deal with Blaine’s thing about  _birds_ , not that Kurt complained too much about the results of Blaine seeing them, or about how the Nightbird costume fit around Blaine’s body.

But  _nothing_  could possibly prepare him for the sight that greeted him when he got back from a trip with Isabelle a day early. 

"I’ll never unsee that," he mumbles when the curtain parts — they’ve kept it up, even though they don’t use it when they’re alone at home.

It’s usually only closed when they have someone visiting, so the sight of it pulled back has Kurt immediately curious. He walks over and pulls the curtain to the side, his eyes still wide in shock. It’s only when Kurt leans his knee on the bed and dips the mattress that Blaine realizes he’s not alone

"Oh, hi," Blaine tugs off the headphones he had in, and his face immediately turns a bright red. "You’re back early."

He’s breathless, and Kurt can’t help the hitch in his own breathing at that, combined with the sight in front of him.

"So, Bruce?" Kurt asks with a curious and amused tone.

Blaine blushes more and tries to roll over to his side, but his hips twitch at the movement, and Kurt’s eyebrow quirks up. He reaches out and runs a hand over the naked slope of Blaine’s back, then pauses when it reaches the globes of Blaine’s — unaffected by any diet — round ass. 

"Missed me?" Kurt asks, hearing his voice drop to a rough whisper.

"Mhm," Blaine nods into the arm pillow and whimpers when Kurt’s hand moves lower.

"Did you do this much?" Kurt continues, and his fingers dip into the cleft between Blaine’s cheeks.

He finds what he’s suspected he would almost immediately, the feel of warm silicone telling him that Blaine’s been in bed for a while. 

"Tonight," Blaine breathes out and whimpers again when Kurt’s fingers push against the toy. "Please…"

"Do you want the real thing instead, baby?" Kurt asks gently, and pulls his hand away.

He’s already reaching for the buttons on his shirt when Blaine rolls over and pushes the pillow out of the way. Kurt watches as Blaine shivers when he sits on the bed, and he knows the plug must have just pressed into Blaine the right way. 

"Please," Blaine says, and reaches out to help Kurt shed his clothes faster.

When they’re both naked, Kurt settles against the wall and pulls Blaine into his lap. Then he reaches around, tugs on the plug a little, and watches Blaine’s lips part with a moan. Neither of them manage words until Blaine is sinking onto Kurt’s cock moments later with a long exhale, stretched already from the plug that Kurt has tossed on the nightstand. 

"I hope you were planning this to welcome me home, too," Kurt whispers into Blaine’s ear as he pushes his hips up. 

"Mhm," Blaine nods, blissed out now, instead of pleading. "Wanted to be ready for you."

"I love you," Kurt mutters as his hips lift to meet Blaine’s, and then he buries his face into Blaine’s neck.

"Welcome home," Blaine mumbles then, and sinks lower, then they both shiver as Kurt’s chuckle sends vibrations through their bodies. 

- 

Later, they are curled up into each other on the bed, cleaned up only to the point that didn’t require too much effort, when Kurt grumbles against Blaine’s shoulder.

"Bruce is moving out, though."

The only response he gets is the bed shaking as Blaine dissolves into uncontrollable giggling. 


	4. "You want me to do what?”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crisscolfer drabble, rated: PG, prompt: "You want me to do what?”, prompted by [darren-fucking-chriss](darren-fucking-chriss.tumblr.com).

He’s been in meetings all day, from ones regarding Glee and whatever they were planning, through those about travel and work arrangements for the UK, to the one the day ended with that left him exhausted. Chris knows the incessant buzzing from his phone is Darren, and after the last meeting, he knows he should have checked his messages. 

Darren had the same meeting that morning, the same people, same propositions, same discussion. Well, maybe not entirely  _the same_ , since Chris has absolutely zero idea how Darren’s meeting went, especially not when he hears all the suggestions. _  
_

"You want me to do what?"

He knows his voice is high and almost hysterical when he’s told what the most preferable option is. 

"Darren already…" Alla tries hesitantly and blanches when Chris shoots her a glare that’s borderline deadly.

"Yeah, I doubt that," he snaps at her.

Immediately, Chris feels like he should apologize, but he’s still reeling from what he’s been told. The one thing he’s sure about is that there is  _no way_ Darren agreed to that plan. 

He should have checked his phone on the way, because while he can’t imagine not being outraged, at least the suggestion wouldn’t have caught him off-guard.

"So you want us both to reference the tour, the  _kiss_ ,” he says slowly, and glances between his own and Darren’s PR team, “and  _admit_  to it having been out of character…” 

Chris waits a second until he gets nods in response to his inquiring look, then he takes a deep breath.

"But you want us to state, without leaving room for hesitation, that it was character bleed and a mistake?"

The words come out sharp and angry, angrier than he wants to allow himself to show. 

"Chris, there have been questions again," Alla says gently, and he feels like snapping again, because he  _knows_ , he’s not a complete idiot. “About that part, specifically. About the kiss, about what it meant.”

"I  _know_ ,” he grumbles and rubs his face. “I know  _why_  there are questions, there will always be questions unless…”

"Unless things change and both your careers are at a point where they’d survive the truth."

"I can’t…" Chris whispers. "Not about this, Alla."

"Chris, it’s…"

"Don’t tell me that it’s for the best," he almost hisses. "Nothing about this whole thing is  _for the best_. It’s all just lesser evils.”

"Darren…"

When he hears the name, Chris finally pulls out his phone and his eyes scan over the barrage of text messages that have accumulated through the day. He smiles softly at the amount of exclamation marks and then blinks at a lone “please” in one of the last ones.

"Darren did  _not_  agree to this, and I’m not too happy that you tried to trick me into thinking he would,” Chris spits out at the two teams. “I’m not doing it. Not now, not ever.”

Silence takes over the room, and just when he feels that he’ll need to run out and never look back, Alla shuffles in her seat, throws glances to everyone else, and then settles her eyes on Chris.

"Okay," she says, and that’s it. 

Chris knows from her tone that the discussion isn’t over, that he’ll be called out for raising suspicion about Darren and him. But Alla’s okay is enough, and he stands up and leaves the room with barely a nod to everyone else. Once he’s out, he leans against the nearest solid wall and with shaky fingers types out a text message.

_I didn’t. I won’t. I wouldn’t._

When his phone vibrates again, his smile finally reaches his eyes again at the sight of the photo of Darren’s relieved face.


	5. "Are you fucking kidding me?"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sterek drabble, rating: PG, prompt: "Are you fucking kidding me?", prompted by [hysterekial](hysterekial.tumblr.com)

What follows is a lot of slamming doors, stomping around the loft and disapproving looks. Derek tries to wait it out, tries not to be shaken by the silence that is so unusual, tries to not become too nervous when Stiles doesn't say anything. 

It doesn't last that long, shorter than he expected given the warning he got from Scott just before Stiles barged through the door. Derek knew the reaction would not be pleasant, but he stood by his decision. Regardless of what  _he_  wanted, it wasn't important. Which he would have told Stiles, if he was given the chance. 

He got one text message from Stiles before the loft door slammed open: "Are you fucking kidding me?"

Then Stiles rushed in, stood in front of Derek and glared into the werewolf's eyes, then, when Derek opened his mouth to speak, just growled an angry "Shut up, Hale" and began the stomping. So Derek listened, slumped onto the couch, and he waited. 

"How dare you?"

Stiles isn't in the same room, he stomped upstairs a few minutes before, when he finally speaks. 

"I know you can hear me and I don't want you to come up here," Stiles says and it's loud enough for Derek to pick up. "You're such an asshole. You went behind my back on this. I  _told you_  how I feel about it."

Derek listens, none of the words that he catches are surprising to him. When he went to talk to the Sheriff and to Scott, he already ran through all of them, then he heard it again from Stiles' Dad. But he knows that it was the only way that either of them would listen, that Stiles wouldn't have given him a chance to even  _try_. 

"You're not the boss of me, and this was not okay," Stiles continues, his voice shaking with anger. "I don't care what noble, self-sacrificing bullshit thoughts were behind this, but I will  _not_  accept it."

The stomps down the stairs echo across the loft and Derek looks up, then he cringes a little at the anger that radiates from Stiles. 

"You had no right to make the decision," Stiles says, voice lower than when he was upstairs. "You've already done..."

"Not enough," Derek whispers, barely loud enough for werewolf hearing.

But Stiles is already close enough, and Derek knows that he caught the words. 

"Derek," he breathes out with a combination of resignation and frustration. "You can't keep trying to pay back for... whatever you're trying to pay back for."

"I want to," Derek says quietly and finally lets his eyes find Stiles'.

"I'm not going over how it's not your fault," Stiles says, a tone of finality in his voice. "We've been through it before."

"You're..."

"If the next words out of your mouth are 'you're pack', I swear I will rip your throat out," Stiles growls.

"With your teeth?" Derek quips, and he can't help the tiny tug of the corner of his lips. 

He knows that the words are easing the tension, he can feel it dissipating, but it's not enough. There's still an undercurrent of anger in Stiles' movements and his expression. 

"Look, I'll apply for scholarships," Stiles says then, sounding like it's painful to speak. "I'll go somewhere closer, find a job. I don't want to  _owe you_."

Derek sighs. He knows that it was not okay telling the Sheriff and Scott -- whom Derek included because he's their Alpha -- that the money that's been recovered belongs to all of them, and that it should be used for Stiles' tuition. But they've managed to arrange it so Derek is the only one to have access to it, and he has no other use for it. Isaac's tuition isn't as much, Lydia got a full ride and Jackson never needed it in the first place. Scott already accepted what he needed, though it's less than what Derek guesses Stiles will have to pay.

"No," Derek says with determination.

"Jeez, I'll leave without you  _paying me to_ , if that's what you want," Stiles spits out and growls again. "Guess Scott was lying about what some scents mean..."

Stiles' face falls, and Derek knows where his thoughts have headed.

"I don't  _want_  you to leave," he whispers and ducks his head. "I wasn't... Scott wasn't wrong."

"You know, there are easier ways to break up than to fund me moving away," Stiles says in a whisper, but he sits down next to Derek on the couch, just far enough that they're not touching. "I know I'm new to this," he says and when Derek looks up he can see the glowing eyes and the fangs that peek out just long enough to be noticed, "but I'm pretty sure that you don't hate me anymore."

"I never did," Derek says, and knows that Stiles can hear that it's not a lie. "This," he makes a sweeping motion at Stiles, "is still my fault."

"Again with the repeated conversation," Stiles sighs. "You weren't the one rushing in front of Scott and into the Berserker's way. You weren't the one who  _bit me_. You got bit again at the same time, Derek. By  _Scott_. He saved both of us the same way. You know why?"

Derek shakes his head, but doesn't look away from Stiles.

"Because I asked him to," Stiles says and Derek's eyes open wider. "He promised me once that he would 'do something' to save me, back when I thought..." _  
_

They both shiver when they remember the Nogitsune's trick. Stiles recovers first, though, Derek still reeling from the possibility.

"I... Scott told me you were dying," Stiles whispers. "That you got hit hard, and I knew you didn't have your healing. He never told you, did he?"

"Told me what?"

"I asked him to give you the Bite first. I needed to know you'd make it before he bit  _me_."

The silence returns to the room and Derek stares at Stiles, because Scott never talked about that fight. It left both Stiles and Derek fighting for their lives, and Scott bit them both to keep them alive. 

"Why?"

It's quiet, the words only a whisper when Derek asks and stared into Stiles' face, hands clenched as he's waiting for an answer.

"Idiot," Stiles whispers back.

And then he's leaning towards Derek, their lips meeting, and Derek gasps into the kiss. His arms move without conscious thought and it barely takes a second before he's kissing back, arms on Stiles' waist, their heartbeats racing.

"That's why," Stiles smiles when he pulls away.

"Oh."

"I'm still not taking your money for college. No matter how okay you are with this.. with  _us_."

"We'll talk about it," Derek responds and finds Stiles' hand to link their fingers. "You know there's enough for frequent visits, right?"

"I'm  _not_  leaving."

"Maybe I will," Derek smirks. "If you won't go just because I offered the money, would you go because that's where I'll be?"

"Asshole," Stiles frowns, but the corners of his lips are betraying him. "I don't know why I like you, you're a manipulative asshole."

"You like me?"

Derek meant it as a joke, as another tease to lighten the conversation, but it comes out quiet and hesitant. Instead of answering, Stiles leans forward again, and mutters 'idiot' against Derek's lips before he kisses him again.

There are mumbles of 'still angry' and 'we're not done' from Stiles as they keep kissing, words muffled by their lips, but Derek doesn't care.  _Everything else can wait_ , he thinks as he pulls Stiles closer.


	6. "Are you flirting with me?"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aaron Christopherson/Carson Phillips, rating: PG, prompt: "Are you flirting with me?", prompted by [innovatived](http://innovatived.tumblr.com/)

He has done it before, of course he has. In elementary on the playground at recess, when it involved  _actual_  pulling pigtails, then in middle school when it was blowing spitballs at people’s backs. But it’s high school, and they’re  _over_ that, right? They’re not kids trying to get someone’s attention by poking and torturing, he knows now that it’s not okay, that it never was. 

But Aaron can’t deny that he feels singled out in meetings of the writers club, called out more than anyone else when it’s time to read and criticize each other’s contributions. It’s not that he  _minds_  the attention from Carson exactly. Hell, he’s spent most of the previous year trying to get on the guy’s radar. Now that he’s on it, now that he’s not only in the same writers club but also on the prom and yearbook committees and part of the newspaper staff, Aaron is questioning his life choices. 

"Lay off, Phillips," he groans when Carson yet again nitpicks on the story Aaron spent a week on. "If it’s such a disaster, why won’t you just kick me out?"

The room goes silent. Mallory never really questions Carson, only occasionally tries when she brings in a piece of someone else’s writing and tries to sell it as her own. Aaron has to give her props for trying, the works are becoming increasingly obscure, but she has yet to find one Carson doesn’t know. 

"I would, if you stopped using your tenses wrong and actually figured out characterizations before you write a damn story," Carson spits into the eerily quiet space.

Aaron hears chairs scraping across the floor and the door slamming closed after Mallory drags the Spanish-speaking kid out without looking back. She’s learned that Carson in a mood like that is not someone to be around. Aaron should know better, too, but he can’t help himself.

"Is  _that_  what you have an issue with?”

He stands up to face Carson and steps closer. 

"What, you want to tell me what I’ve missed? I’d rather you  _listen_  and work on those first, before I list everything else that needs improvement,” Carson says, coldness and disdain seeping from his voice.

"Why me?" Aaron asks then, taking another step closer.

"Why you  _what_?” Carson throws back, eyebrows scrunching in confusion.

"Why is it  _me_  you’ve decided to target with all that? I don’t see you ripping apart anyone else’s stories this much,” Aaron says, his voice weaker with every word. “I’d get Mallory and Emilio, but what about the kids who show up other times?”

Carson stays silent, at first trying to keep up the glare that he directed at Aaron earlier, but he soon fails and ducks his head.

"…better than them…" he mumbles and Aaron squints like that would help him hear better.

It doesn’t, of course, but the words he catches make him think he’s way off the mark by thinking that Carson simply can’t stand Aaron, that he’s sick of seeing him everywhere. 

"Say that again," Aaron says firmly.

"You’re  _better_  than them, okay?” Carson almost shouts. “You already are, and you can improve even more if you just  _listen_.”

"You… wait, you don’t hate me," Aaron says as a statement instead of a question, and his eyes widen. "You’re picking on me because… wait, no, is this… Are you flirting with me? Is this your version of pulling my proverbial pigtails?"

Carson stares, and Aaron waits for a response or a reaction of any other kind. It looks like Carson is trying to convince himself to shake his head, to argue that what Aaron thinks is not true, but he’s clearly losing that fight.

"You like me," Aaron whispers then, and walks the remaining few steps to Carson. "This isn’t you not liking what I do, this is you paying it extra attention, isn’t it?"

Carson breathes in when Aaron’s hands come to rest on Carson’s waist. And then, after a questioning look and a tiny gasp, they both lean in and their lips slot together.


	7. "I think you missed your calling"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crisscolfer, rating: G, prompt: "I think you missed your calling", prompted by [lepavarotti](http://lepavarotti.tumblr.com/)

There’s nothing, absolutely nothing that would’ve prepared Darren for the sight that he arrived home to, after another one on the list of his escapes. He was about ready to crash on the couch, even the distance to the bedroom looking like an insurmountable feat. But when he turned the corner and his eyes fell on the occupants of the couch, his jaw dropped in shock.

Sure, he was used to coming home and finding Chris surrounded by either the little zoo they were slowly accumulating, or by stacks of paper — contents varying from Chris’ writing through scripts they both were sent, to receipts and itineraries for Chris himself but also occasionally Darren.

What he wasn’t prepared for — and really, he should’ve suspected, since Chuck and Lucy weren’t in NYC where Darren just came back from — was the sight of Chris spread out on the ground, LEGO bricks strewn across the space between the couch and the TV, and Rosemary sitting cross-legged opposite Chris, nose buried in a booklet with what Darren assumed were instructions.

"Well aren’t you two a sight for sore eyes," he said when he finally came back to earth.

"Uncle Dardar!" Rosemary yelled, and she immediately scrambled off the floor and darted towards Darren.

He only just had the time to push his bag to the side, and noticed Chris’ slight wince at the volume level of her voice, then he was tackled strongly enough that he barely managed to stop himself from crashing to the ground.

"Rosemary, oh my beautiful Rosemary," he said with a laugh. "I didn’t expect to find you here."

"Mom and Dad are on a  _date_ ,” she said with a shudder that only a six year old could manage in reaction to anything romantic. “Chris is helping me with the _coolest_  things.”

"Is he now?" Darren said with a smirk. Then he glanced towards Chris, who was still spread on the ground but on his side, watching Darren and his niece.

"He’s  _really_  good at building, you know?” Rosemary said earnestly and slipped out of Darren’s arms, then pulled him towards the building project.

"That does look impressive," Darren said a moment later when Rosemary paused in her explanations of what they were building. "I think you missed your calling," he said, glancing to Chris.

There was no way the look from Chris could’ve been interpreted as anything but murderous at first. But then Rosemary continued showering praise on Chris’ abilities, and Darren didn’t miss the way Chris’ expression softened.


	8. "You forgot to say the magic word."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crisscolfer, rating: G, prompt: "You forgot to say the magic word", prompted by [lepavarotti](http://lepavarotti.tumblr.com/)

"Seriously?"

"Yes, seriously," Darren laughs at the expression in Chris' face,  and leans against the counter.

Chris almost growls, then sighs, and then slumps into his chair with resignation.

"Okay," he says, defeat seeping through every letter of the word.

"Really?" Darren asks with a surprised tone.

"Don't push it," Chris grumbles. "I said okay, don't make me change my mind, I'm pretty sure me going back to the office is the last thing you want me to do right now."

"That... yeah, that is definitely the opposite of what I want right now," Darren nods quickly, and he straightens his back. "Now that we have cleared that up, what would you like for dinner, sweetheart?"

Chris pauses and stares as Darren tugs an apron off a hook and wraps it around himself.

"You were actually serious about the cooking," Chris says in a deadpan tone, then blinks a few times like he's not believing his own eyes.

"I was, yes," Darren laughs. "I believe the promise was to dine and wine you -- wine optional, dining obligatory, including the part where you don't lift a finger."

"That s what you said, but I thought you were going to order Chinese or something," Chris admits.

"Now how is that a proper dining experience?" Darren teases.

"I didn't think that was your point," Chris says and shrugs.

"Tell me what I'm cooking and we can discuss what my point was," Darren says, a hint of impatience colouring his voice.

"Since you're the one cooking, could you make your Mom's chicken soup?" Chris asks. "It's been too long since I had it."

"You forgot to say the magic word," Darren grins.

"Please?" Chris tries, confusion obvious in his expression.

"No, that's not it," Darren replies with a laugh.

"Babe, you change the magic word every week, how am I supposed to... oh wait, no, I know," Chris grins when he remembers it coming up the night before. "But just for the record, this one is the most insane one of them so far."

"Just say it, or there will be no soup."

"I should remind you again that you not actually following through with your plan will just make me go back to working," Chris points out, and sounds a little smug.

"Ah, but that's where you are wrong, young Padawan," Darren says and grins wide. "You will not go back until after dinner, it just won't be your choice of meals. Now, what IS the magic word?"

"M'prec's," Chris mumbles, and cringes.

"Excuse me? I didn't catch that," Darren says, prompting Chris to speak more clearly.

"It's technically two words, you know?" Chris says instead, the tips of his ears still burning.

"The longer you stall, the less likely you are to get the dinner you want," Darren says with a smug grin.

"Oh _fine_ ," Chris says and then sighs with resignation. "I would _really_ like your mother's delicious chicken soup, _my precious_."

He slumps in the chair and tries to not grind his teeth because of giving in to Darren's ridiculous demand, much as he finds it endearingly nerdy.

"See, it wasn't that hard," Darren says and still laughs when he ducks the balled up kitchen towel that Chris flings in his direction.


	9. "I've got one word for you: sing-along."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hobrien, rating: PG, prompt: "I got one word for you: sing-along.", prompted by: [my-ainsel](http://my-ainsel.tumblr.com/)

"Oh my god, how drunk is he?"

Tyler sways a little when he turns to answer Holland's question, even though she wasn't asking him but Dylan.

"I'm... not actually sure," Dylan shrugs. "I went to talk Linden out of tweeting any more old photos, came back and found this one... well, like this," he motions to Tyler.

"Not drunk," Tyler mumbles, but when he shuffles in Dylan's direction, it's obvious that gravity or coordination aren't his friends. 

"Sure you aren't," Holland says and laughs at Tyler's sulky expression. "I gotta say, it's a refreshing change from you and Pose being wasted," she adds when she looks at Dylan again.

"No tree humping," Tyler supplies unhelpfully, and earns himself a poke in his side from Dylan. "Talked 'bout it, can't complain."

"I know, I know," Dylan says with a defeated tone. "I'm running out of public-appropriate stories about our living together, though."

"I've got one word for you: sing-along," Tyler almost yells, a grin spreading across his face.

"Oh  _fuck no_ ," Dylan's eyes widen. "I am never  _ever_  talking about that one. Ever. No. Not happening."

"What's not happening?" Posey peeks over Dylan's shoulder, and Dylan jumps in surprise.

"D doesn't wanna share the sing-along story," Tyler says and is pouting again. "T'was  _cuuuuute_."

" _No._ "

"Sickeningly adorable is what I'd go with," Posey lays his chin on Dylan's shoulder and chuckles. "But I can see how you're lacking the vocab right now, Hoech."

"Fuck you too, Pose," Tyler mumbles and leans against Dylan's side.

"Fuck you both," Dylan grumbles. "Still not talking about it."

"Oooh, kinky," Holland says, looking at the three of them with her eyes crinkled with laughter. "Didn't think you were into sharing, Dyl."

"No,  _mine_ ," Tyler then growls and attempts a glare in Posey's direction, but fails miserably.

"Come on, Pose, you can tell me all about the sing-along while these two ... yeah, let's just go," Holland says quickly when Tyler buries his face into Dylan's neck, and they both stop paying attention to their surroundings. "Rooms are thataway, assholes," she calls out over her shoulder and waves her hand in an attempt to stop the boys' PDA.

"I like you singing," Tyler says, his voice muffled by Dylan's skin.

"And again, we're never talking about  _how_  you found out about my inappropriate crush on you," Dylan shakes his head.

He tugs on Tyler's hand then, and starts moving in the direction Holland pointed to.


End file.
